Baby Blues and Wedding Shoes, Page 2

  As she lowered herself down to take him in her mouth, Daniel’s quiet sigh filled Helen with warmth. She never ceased to revel in her ability to give him pleasure. However much he acted in charge both in and out of the bedroom, Helen always knew their relationship was equal because she was able to make him moan.

  Helen lay in the dark unsure what had woken her until the sound of traffic seeped into her consciousness. That’s not right. Looking for the familiar green numbers of the bedside clock it was a while before she realised why they weren’t there. Instead of being snug under a duvet she was lying naked on the leather sofa, half numb from the weight of Daniel on top of her.

  She turned to look at the mantel clock above the gas-flame fireplace. 2 a.m. She groaned then held her breath, listening intently in case she had woken Daniel.

  Bugger, I’ve got a shoot tomorrow. Make that today.

  She turned awkwardly under Daniel’s heavy body. Cooled sweat made them stick together like cellophane and welded her buttocks to the leather sofa. Daniel had sobered enough to locate a condom, and his celebration of the success of the dinner party had gone on for some time.

  Helen winced slightly as she eased her fiancé’s sleeping form off her. She felt unusually tender and was thankful that her period hadn’t yet come.

  Daniel would have been a grumpy bear if I’d refused him this evening.

  He always celebrated his business successes in the same fashion, as if the act of winning was the most powerful aphrodisiac. Helen thought of her orgasms and her cheeks lifted into a grin.

  Not that I mind.

  She stood silently observing Daniel’s naked body to ensure she hadn’t disturbed him. The sight caused dormant embers to smoulder within her and she turned to find a blanket to throw over him.

  Honestly, girl, you’re insatiable. You need sleep. Daniel’s work may have been this evening, but yours is in the morning.

  She hadn’t told Daniel about the shoot, she didn’t want to confess until she was sure something would come of it.

  No point getting into discussion yet. Helen stared at her reflection as she brushed her teeth. No harm that he thinks you spend a ridiculous amount of time in the gym; it’s what he expected you to do when you left work to be his hostess. Why shatter his illusion if it makes him happy?

  Making Daniel happy made her happy, particularly if it manifested itself in the way it had this evening.

  She surveyed her dishevelled image and gave a little wink before heading into the bedroom. She should probably rouse Daniel and get him to bed, but she would wake before he did in the morning and there was time enough then to pretend she had also spent the night on the sofa. She loved living with him but she did miss her own space at times, particularly as their lives were so entwined.

  Enjoying the luxury of lying spread-eagled and alone in the king-size bed Helen gazed blindly at the dark ceiling, thinking about the shoot.

  I hope it goes well. It has to go well; my whole future depends on it. Not just my career but my marriage. I am going to go loopy if I spend the next forty years being Mrs Hostess. The thought gave rise to a fluttery panic. Worried the adrenalin would prevent her from sleeping, she pushed the thoughts aside. If I turn up half asleep Derek is going to skin me alive. She pushed away the image of Derek frowning that seemed to keep morphing into Daniel and closed her eyes, praying for sleep to come.

  Chapter Two

  It felt like she had slept for five minutes when the alarm tore through her scattered dreams, dragging her to consciousness with a thudding heart. Moving swiftly, Helen silenced it before it could irritate Daniel, who hated to be woken before noon after a business dinner. Lying still in the echoing silence listening for evidence that she had disturbed him Helen became aware of the empty space beside her and remembered guiltily that she had left Daniel sleeping naked on the sofa.

  Padding silently through to the kitchen, she fired up the coffee machine and munched through a croissant while she waited for it to perform its magic. Daniel was likely to be hung-over and Helen didn’t want to be around after she woke him, particularly not when he realised he wasn’t in bed.

  Best to be dressed and ready to scarper, she thought, creeping quietly back to their room to pull some clothes on before waking him with the aromatic black liquid. She toyed briefly with the idea of leaving him asleep but she knew he’d be cross if he woke alone laid out naked in the lounge. Better to take the few moments of grump and hope he had calmed down by the time she returned in the afternoon.

  Her stuff was all packed and tucked into the hall cupboard in a rucksack she had purchased specifically. Without deliberately keeping secrets from Daniel she let him believe the bag held her gym kit. He liked to think of her spending hours on the treadmill keeping her body lithe enough to squeeze into the tiny dresses he insisted on her wearing for his dinner parties. And of course keeping fit for the celebrations afterwards.

  Helen wrenched her mind away from the image of her toned body straddling Daniel’s. There was no time for shenanigans this morning and already she could feel the stirrings of lust. It was ridiculous how much she fancied the man snoring gently in the next room

  Helen gulped down the last of her coffee, tidied her breakfast plate away into the dishwasher and wiped the breakfast bar. Pushing back her shoulders she took a deep breath and headed into the lounge, espresso in hand.

  She knelt down on the floor by the sofa and wafted the coffee near Daniel’s nose, letting the powerful scent of Columbia’s finest freshly ground brew do the work of bringing him to consciousness. After a few moments he stirred, turning his head groggily, creases on his face from the stitching on the sofa.

  Helen found herself fighting the urge to giggle. With effort she managed to school her features into a look of sympathy as she offered him the cup. “Coffee? We fell asleep on the sofa!”

  Daniel’s brows drew close and his eyes darkened.

  “You’re dressed.” His voice echoed in the quiet room.

  “I woke a short while ago so I decided to brew the coffee before I roused you.” His eyes were still dark so she hastily added, “I thought I’d pop to the gym, give you a chance to go back to bed by yourself.”

  She knew he would also be frisky and would want a re-run of the previous night. Thinking quickly she added, “It’s the Award Dinner tonight; you won’t want to be tired in case you need to make a speech.”

  With an inward gust of relief she saw his brain computing this information and coming to a decision.

  “You’re right; I should get a few more hours’ sleep. Thank you, you think of everything.” He pushed himself up into a sitting position, not bothering to cover his nakedness, and reached out to stroke her cheek.

  Helen’s innards melted at the unexpected gesture and the temptation to stay grew, alongside a sudden surge of desire. Just in time a voice in the back of her mind said loudly, Er, the Shoot, Helen?

  She settled for returning the gesture, stroking his slightly stubbled cheek before running her hand down his chest. She leaned over and gave his semi-erect cock a quick suck before grinning up at him and saying, “Rest well, my love, I’ll be back after lunch.”

  He reached out a hand as if to detain her so she added, “We can run through your speech, make sure you haven’t forgotten anything, you know, just in case?”

  Daniel looked torn and for a tense moment Helen thought he would give in to the urgings of his eager cock. Then her words seeped through his hangover and he nodded once. Not wanting to miss her moment Helen pecked him on the cheek and headed for the door.

  Once outside the apartment Helen paused to collect herself, relieved to have escaped without a dozen questions from Daniel. A quick glance at her watch told her she had less than an hour to cross London and get to the rendezvous on time. She started walking briskly towards Fleet Street, smiling at the silence of Maughan library. Even as a student she had loved the stillness of the campus on a Saturday morning.

  Helen thought about how much Daniel
hated having his expensive apartment so close to her old student stomping ground.

  It’s as if it devalues his achievements somehow. Like any student, even a Kings College one, could afford to live in his pad! He is a funny one.

  Inhaling the fresh morning air Helen felt her heart lift and her head clear, easing the knot in her stomach. She loved the walk to the nearest tube stop at Victoria Embankment, although today she hurried along barely aware of the beautiful buildings that on a normal day filled her with delight. Growing up surrounded by the farmlands of Devon she still found the towering edifices of even the most mundane London street inspiring.

  Her apartment near Earl’s Court was in a Victorian terrace on a long crescent with attractive portico entrances for every pair of houses. She thought about her flat; a tiny one-bed on the second floor, with a large kitchen window that caught the sun. She missed her tree-lined streets and, despite Daniel’s luxurious seventh-floor apartment with views to die for, it had cost her some heartache to move.

  The main bonus for her was that the streets around Daniel’s apartment near Fleet Street were simply amazing. Along Fleet Street, The Strand, even the Temple tube station itself; the buildings were all so beautiful and so old. Of course, the hills around her parents’ farm were old, but not in any way that could be measured.

  As she turned into Fleet Street, Helen saw the clocks on the Romanian Orthodox Church telling her how late she was. Even if a train was waiting when she arrived at Temple she was going to be lucky to get there in time. Up ahead she saw a bus waiting and adrenalin flooded through her. She didn’t want to arrive hot and sweaty, but it was better that than being late, which she guessed would be deemed an unforgivable act particularly on her first shoot. She sprinted for the bus, praying it was the 76. It was and she hopped on just as the doors were closing and the bus began moving back into the traffic. Flashing her pass, Helen sank into a vacant seat and tried to catch her breath.

  It was hard sitting still when she was in a hurry, but she knew it was the quickest way to the tube at this time of day. Bouncing her leg up and down, Helen looked out the window at the familiar shops and bars. She tried not to think too much about what lay at the end of her journey. Instead she turned her mind to the Award Ceremony she would be attending with Daniel that evening. Mentally reviewing her wardrobe, she had selected the right dress and shoes and was just thinking through what bag Daniel would most approve of when the bus arrived at Somerset House.

  Helen jumped down and trotted along to the tube station, glad she had thought to get a rucksack for her gear so that it left her free to move quickly. She ran down the stairs two at a time and sprinted for the platform, thanking her stars it wasn’t a week day when the place would be packed with people even at this time of the morning.

  Goodness me, the gods of travel are smiling on me today, Helen thought, as she arrived at the platform to see a train about to depart. Offering a quick prayer to her guiding deity, she stepped on and sank into a seat, glancing up briefly at the map to make sure it was the right one going in the right direction. Even after years living in London she still had a country-girl’s fear of getting on the wrong train and ending up in some remote destination. It hadn’t happened yet, but today was not the day to be complacent.

  The doors closed with a hiss and Helen felt her breath expel in a similar sigh of relief. She would need to change trains at South Kensington, but the trains on the Piccadilly line ran every few minutes so she should arrive in plenty of time.

  Helen removed her rucksack and hugged it to her chest, looking around at her fellow passengers. The tube was a different beast at the weekend; the vacant-gazed disinterested suits were replaced by visitors and tourists, all agog. Each stop was a cause for comment. Westminster, St James’s Park, Victoria, Sloane Square. She remembered how the names had resonated with her when she had arrived in London as a nervous undergraduate. She had dreamed of coming to live in London, impatient to leave the rural idyll of her childhood, to savour the exhilarating life she imagined she would live in the Big Smoke. Her parents had been surprisingly supportive, given their natural desire for her to go to university at Plymouth or Exeter or even Bristol.

  Bless Mum, Helen thought with a fond smile. With Simon already travelling the world, she and Dad must have been so desperate for their remaining child not to fly too far from the nest, and I did just that. I suppose I could have ended up in Edinburgh or something, but with flights so cheap that probably would have been as easy for them to get to as here.

  She thought about how her mother had come to London with her to find student digs and again when she had got her first job after graduation, to help her find the right flat.

  I must give her a call this evening. Helen realised guiltily that she hadn’t spoken to her mother in a while. Her evenings were often taken up with Daniel’s business dinners and social occasions. She would call tonight and tell her mother all about her day, assuming it wasn’t a complete disaster.

  At the thought of what lay ahead, Helen’s stomach churned uncomfortably. She hadn’t been this nervous since her finals. Not even her first date with Daniel had caused her heart to pound quite so loudly, although that definitely came a close second. His method of asking her out – leaning across her desk and whispering I want you into her ear - hadn’t helped the first date nerves.

  She wondered if Daniel had gone back to sleep or if he was working. Probably working. Daniel was always working.

  The train arrived at South Kensington and Helen hurried to the Piccadilly line to catch the train to Hyde Park Corner. It was only two stops so she kept her rucksack on and clung to a strap, trying hard not to give in to the panic welling in her stomach.

  Exiting at Hyde Park Corner, Helen blinked in the morning sun. It wasn’t exactly built up around Clifford’s Inn and Daniel’s apartment had great views over the rooftops and the Guild Church, but the windows were south and west facing so the apartment didn’t flood with sun until later in the day, even in the summer. Here in the open spaces of the park Helen was suddenly bathed in warm rays of early summer sunshine.

  “Hey up, Hells!”

  Helen turned at the voice hailing her from the tube station exit. She smiled as she saw a young girl heading towards her, her long black hair escaping from under a vibrant dupatta scarf. As the girl reached her they hugged and laughed as their heavy bags nearly caused them to topple over.

  “Sharni, I’m so glad to see you. I’m so late! I need a partner in crime.” Helen linked arms with her friend and they headed swiftly into the park.

  “We’re not late, we’re perfectly punctual,” Sharni put on a prim voice as she said it, making Helen laugh again, this time at the difference from her usual accent.

  “Don’t let Dawn hear you mimicking her like that or she’ll give you one of her looks.”

  “Ooh don’t!” Sharni shivered theatrically. They both loved Dawn, but that didn’t stop them laughing a little at her sharp southern accent, which was such a contrast to Helen’s Devonian burr and Sharni’s flat Yorkshire vowels.

  “Nervous?” Helen looked at Sharni’s perfect face and wondered if she ever felt nervous.

  “Bricking it!” Sharni confessed.

  “Me too,” Helen agreed, glad not to be alone.

  “Me hands’re shaking so much I’ve got me tripod. Do you think Derek will have a go? He doesn’t much go for them, does he?”

  “Damn, I didn’t even think to put mine in.” Helen frowned, thinking of it tucked inside the hallway cupboard. She hoped Daniel wouldn’t find it.

  “You won’t need it, little miss steady-hands.” The girls giggled, Derek was always commenting on Helen’s steady hands, as if that were the most amazing trait to possess.

  “Pure luck,” Helen said, as she always did. She had no idea why her hands were so steady and wondered if the compliment would hold true today; she felt as if her whole body was quivering.

  They arrived at the rendezvous just as Derek was gathering the rest of
the group together. Helen looked anxiously at Derek, wary of his ire.

  He really does look incongruous in the park, especially this early in the day, Helen thought. With his wiry frame, tanned skin and coiffured grey hair, he looked like an ageing rock star who only saw 9am on the other side of a good night out.

  Derek broke off mid-sentence and turned to give the girls a penetrating look so reminiscent of one of Helen’s stern university lecturers it was all Helen could do not to say, “Sorry, sir!” Instead she smiled apologetically and tried to convey the notion that her tardiness was due to events outside her control.

  Looking to her right she could see Sharni beaming, entirely unconcerned about the unspoken reprimand.

  “Right, now we are all here,” another meaningful look at the girls, “let me just give you a brief reminder of our purpose before Rosa and her entourage arrive.”

  He paused to collect his thoughts and Helen took the opportunity to glance quickly at the rest of her group. There were only five of them, the perfect number as far as she was concerned. She could see Dawn on the other side of Sharni. Her lined face was tense as she focused unwaveringly on Derek. Helen wondered why she looked so worried; she was by far the most talented of the five.

  Turning to her left, Helen caught Ben watching her and smiled warmly. He gave her a cheeky wink and turned back to face Derek. Helen’s heart skipped and she quickly looked past Ben to where Stuart was lounging nonchalantly against a tree as if he were merely an interested bystander. Helen envied Stuart’s serenity and wondered, not for the first time, why he had joined the group in the first place. They were all there for some reason other than to learn how to take great pictures. She hadn’t worked out what Stuart’s motivation was, which surprised her. She was usually pretty good at fathoming out what made people tick.